


Catching Up

by Swine



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not explicitly mentioned but, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Scottish Victor, Trans Hop, alternates between past and present, slowish burn, trainshipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21912544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swine/pseuds/Swine
Summary: Victor visiting Postwick after two years of becoming champion has Hop befuddled in more ways than he could have ever asked for. Memories start to resurface, and Hop begins to remember why he was in love with his dear friend for so long.
Relationships: Hop/Masaru | Victor
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86





	1. your laugh as well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor visits his hometown, Hop relearns emotions he forgot years ago.

They were getting less scarce. The trees that passed the window of the train car. From Wyndon, there were an extensive variety of buildings that towered over him as the train passed. Some had illuminated billboards that he recalled watching for hours once the sun had gone down from the window of his hotel. Others held a great number of windows, some with lights and others with the shutters closed. There was also a diverse selection of people that he’d just manage to catch in the corner of his eye. Each carried a different face, a different gait. Some walked alone, listening to music or rushing to a destination on the other side of the city. Others walked in herds, in large or small groups. They each held a different story. A different set of memories.

Victor saw the scenery change, very slowly, from the large and intimidating buildings of Wyndon to the rustic, homely feel of Postwick. He was getting close.

His memories were fuzzy sometimes. Memories of his childhood would attempt to resurface, bubbling to the top of his brain so hopefully, only to sink back to the depths of his mind very pitifully. He remembers Postwick. The time spent chasing Rookiedees near the mouth of Route One, the little barbecues the neighbors were kind enough to share with him and his mother, the everything. Those fuzzy, vague ideas just managed to reappear. A small smile played at his lips at the thought.

It’s been two years since he had become Champion. 

A tiring job, really, yet it wasn’t one he regrets holding. There were familiar buildings that the train passed, with the natural design and moss that crawled up the sides of each wall. He felt his heart beat just a bit quicker, but only a bit. He visits as often as he could. He understood Leon completely, so many companies were so eager to partner with him, so many photoshoots he was forced to take part in (his camera shyness slowly evolved into some sort of monster, turning into a disease that forced him to give an exhausted sigh at the very sight of a camera). He only had about four days to relax until his job swept him away to a new destination.

There wouldn’t be many people expecting him. It was supposed to be a bit of a surprise, though he couldn’t think of an extensive list of people that would be completely overjoyed at his stay. His mother, of course. She would give him her signature hug, quite the crusher she was. Sonia, too, would give him a few polite words. A few curt words as well. She was funnily blunt at times, though it was never an issue for Victor. She helped him quite a bit in his original journey through the entirety of Galar, yet he was always so nervous to thank her personally. He would take the time to do that. His heart beat just a bit faster. And—

The train gave a slow stop, snapping him out of his glazed gaze out the window. He stared to the left side of the train, watching the window display the entrance to the town. Why was he so nervous? Despite being the place he had hoped to take refuge in, his hands twitched in his lap. Grabbing his bag, he stood from the table. His bag, after how many years of having it, was beginning to fall apart. The straps were rushedly sewn together. Little bits of wood had begun to peel away. He had it almost all of his life, and only now it had begun to demonstrate its age. The thought almost made him laugh as he made his way off of the train. 

The train station was nearly empty, just two people sitting near the entrance. He gave a smile and a little wave as the two people hushedly stared. People, he had learned, loved to latch onto his little quirks. His nervousness had slowly become his persona, very much against his own will. Not that he minded, he couldn’t say it was completely incorrect.

Outside, the morning sun danced around the town of Wedgehurst. The town seemed so big back then. Just two years ago. He marched around the town with the Scorbunny that followed his every step so confidently. He was so excited, so nervous. He promised himself he’d meet his mother first thing, but the laboratory that stood so prominently at the edge of the town made him nearly overjoyed. With one uneasy step after the other, he walked towards the lab. 

He wasn’t expecting a surprise party planned for him. Once he stepped inside, he wouldn’t see a flutter of balloons, a gathering of people with faces he couldn’t match names to, exclaiming a “welcome back!”. Part of him had hoped it, yet he wasn’t a complete fool.

Instead, he saw Sonia staring so intently at a book she held at the edge of the room. Her Yamper slept at her feet, his tail wagging. Perhaps he was having a dream where he chased groups of Skwovets around a prairie. His mouth began to drool, his tail wagging a little faster, further proving his cute little hypothesis. He inched a bit further, closing the door behind him. Nothing, almost no response. She made a point to grab a highlighter and circle a section in the book. Not with a pen, no. She uses a highlighter to circle a passage. She was in her element, and when she was, she would drift away from reality. 

He took another step, peering at what the cover of the book entailed. Her Yamper’s tail stopped wagging. Once he woke, he saw Victor sneaking into the room. Predictably, he gave loud, excited barks that filled the previously silent room as his little legs carried him toward the boy. Sonia jumped. Victor gave a little laugh as he bent down to pet the dog. He was fairly old, yet he still had so much energy. 

“Oh, it’s you…!” She sounded more surprised than pleased, setting her book on the table.

“You could stand to sound happier, don’t you know?” He tried to joke as he stood back up. He nervously scratched his cheek, abashedly looking away. “It was, ah, just a rib though. It’s good to see you.” His accent was so much thicker than every other citizen in Postwick. He got much from his father. 

“Nothings changed but your appearance by the look of it,” She walked toward Victor. She used to be so tall, much taller than him two years ago. She stood directly in front of him, almost sizing him up. “Look at you…! Loads taller than I ever expected. You and Hop, at the very least.”

“Where…?” He glanced around the room. Hop wasn’t the only reason he had returned to his hometown. It was just because he needed a break. Yet the thought of a long and calming conversation relieved him. “Where does your assistant seem to be?” He hadn’t seen him in over a year. He’d been gone for a complete two years. He’d talk to him in shorter phone calls, talking about little nothings that barely managed to carry the conversation. He came back to the area just last year, but Hop had been busy. 

“Oh, at nearly eight in the morning? You won’t find him here,” She waved off dismissively. She gave a knowing little grin, though Victor couldn’t quite say what she was so knowing about. “You’ll probably find him drooling in his bed by now.” 

“Oh, I forgot how early it was…” He woke up too early, around three or four, to get to Postwick at an acceptable time. Perhaps he should have waited just a bit later, to meet Hop in time.

“Not to shoo you away, O’ Grand Champion, but you didn’t come straight here did you?” She placed a hand on her hip. “Sorry that Hop isn’t here, but you really should head home. Your mother brags about you so much, she’d be just chuffed to see you.” He gave a small smile. His mother had carried him through his entire life, he’d have to thank her too. Perhaps after thanking Sonia. He could thank Sonia now, but something stuck in his throat as he attempted to express his gratefulness. 

“Right, right,” He pulled his gray hat farther down his forehead. “Alright, uhm, thank you.” He tried to leave, the Yamper wagging his tail even harder as he tried to push forward Victor. 

“Sure, go see her quickly, yeah?” She said. He wasn’t courageous enough to elaborate on his gratitude, so he saw fit to just leave. 

He tried to reach his mother’s quickly. It’s been just over a year since he slept in his bed. As he traveled the entirety of Galar, he booked various nights at hotels. But as he neared his house, the familiar scenery made nostalgia rush through his body. At the top of the hill, looking over the entirety of the town, stood his home. Though old, the house stood proudly as the sun’s rays bounced off the roof. A fountain for the Rookiedees sat near the edge of the walls. Fencing traced his backyard. It previously held Wooloo, though most of them had been given away. With only his mother in the house, it became near impossible to manage them all on her own. Much has changed, yet nothing had changed at all.

Opening the door, he caught sight of his mother. She stood in the kitchen to his right, chopping something on the cutting board. The house the same as he had left it. An undersized red jacket flung over the couch, the television on the same talk show his mother watched just to tease the host, even the smell of lingering smoke from the fireplace rushed to his nose. At the sound of the door closing, his mother gave a turn and a surprised huff.

“Oh, Victor!” She rushed quickly to his side, squeezing him ever so tightly. He felt unstretched joints crack at her hug, his eyebrows furrowing.

“M...Mum,” His voice was strained, he was very nearly suffocating.

“Oh, I had no idea you were coming…!” She seemed to hug even harder, his spine practically crying out in retaliation. “You should have told me, I would have cleaned up a bit more!” She finally let him go, letting him take a large gulp of breath. Perhaps it would have been better to let her know ahead of time, but the look of happiness on her face made him reconsider. She sniffed the air and gave a little gasp. Making way toward the kitchen, she lowered the burner and looked into the pantry. 

“You’re cooking so early?” He allowed himself to walk further into the household. The Munchlax that sat on the rug made no effort to welcome him as his mother did, though she made a little pleased grunt at his appearance. 

“I’m preparing a roast, the neighbors invited me for lunch,” She said as she grabbed a bottle of oil and set it down on the counter. She says ‘the neighbors’ as if they hadn’t known Hop’s family for years. “Oh, you should come, Victor! They’d be just delighted to see you!” He’d be lying if he hadn’t thought of making himself seen at their home. It’s been a proper minute since last they had spoken. Hop’s family wasn’t especially large, but anxieties began to build up in his mind. Before, he would stay silent as the rest of the adults would talk about the little things he didn’t care to pay attention to. He and Hop would have separate conversations, giggling about nothings that seemed almost like everything at the time. It would be different, now that he was older.

“I wouldn’t mind,” He said nonetheless.

The book he held must have slid out of his hand while he was asleep. It had various points of history in which people were saved by Pokémon in which held numerous examples. Humans, he had begun to understand, were extraordinarily fragile. The Slowpoke who saved a dehydrating city from a drought, Conkeldurr teaching humans how to create concrete about two thousand years ago, there were too many instances to count. Instead of keeping to his studies, he felt it better to take a nap instead. He hadn’t remembered when he fell asleep, so waking up was quite a surprise.

The dew in the Slumbering Weald danced upon his skin. As a pillow, Zacian lay contentedly near the stone structure that still stood tall despite its years of intense wear. Their head sat in between their paws, maybe patiently waiting for him to wake. He felt their blue fur brush on his neck, the slow tide of Zacian’s breathing lifting his head gently every few moments. He shifted upon the body of his partner, wiping the drool that sort of dribbled from the side of his mouth with his sleeve. This alerted Zacian, their tail wagging very slowly up and down, patting the dirt they lay on. 

“Mmph…” He tiredly ran his hands through his hair, barely able to keep his eyes open. “Did I fall asleep on you, Zaci…?” Unsurprisingly, they gave a frustrated huff through their nose, almost as if they were saying ‘Harumph’. He reached for the book that sat by his Pokémon. The World: A Brief History of Humankind’s Interaction with Pokémon. It was not only assigned, but recommended by Sonia as a thoughtful read, yet the only thoughts that managed to traverse his mind were thoughts of how else he could spend his time.

He could almost say that he truly discovered his appreciation for Pokémon through Sonia’s teachings, understanding each one’s biology, how they work. Yet there were moments where the teachings were mundane. Her studies weren’t nearly as meticulous as this; in fact, she went on a journey of self-discovery to earn her position. 

Zacian stood, causing Hop to fall onto his back. He supposes she must have worked just as hard. Their nose nudged the Pokéball that lay on the ground near the stone structure. He had put it there after letting Zacian out for just a breather, though he supposes his ulterior motives of using them as a rest became seen. It slowly rolled to his side. 

“Alright, okay,” He grabbed the Pokéball and stood up, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m reading the atmosphere. I’ll go do things, yeah?” Zacian gave another huff, though this time it was of complacency. He clicked the button, and very simply, Zacian entered the ball. It was so much easier, so much different than two years ago. He remembers how his heart rattled inside his chest, he remembers having to chase them down just hoping they wouldn’t hurt anyone in the process, he remembers the look of visceral worry on Victor's face when he bolted after the rampaging legendary. 

His nose twitched. He stood quietly, gripping the Pokéball in his right hand. It was early in the morning, or at least that was the time he last saw before he fell asleep. The sun very barely attempted to shine through the leaves of the forest, though the structure that honored the heroes of the past was the only place that was lucky enough to receive sun.

Leaving the Weald was always hard, not due to the Pokémon that littered the area, but because it was just too difficult to see anything. He could have sworn that the mist had gotten worse, the fog had spread throughout the woods had nearly become opaque. Yet he left nonetheless, passing through the gate that lay open near Victor’s house. He’d head home, grab the textbook for Sonia (that he hadn’t finished reading, but he could manage to make something up), and rush to the laboratory. But as he rushed to the house, he heard voices bolster from inside. 

Some small fits of laughter would erupt before another voice would interject. He didn’t think to pause, opening the door to his family. A burst of laughter erupted from the table. Then suddenly, without warning, they all stopped once he was spotted. As if he were a cold wind that blew their ignited conversation away. And there say Victor at the very end of the table, almost shrinking at his gaze. 

“...Hey Victor,” He said from the door, almost incredulously after the table paused upon Hop’s entrance. He, in fact, forgot to feel overjoyed at the sight of him. It was a strange sort of feeling, he remembers a time when the very sight of him made his heart pound in his ears. But now, he felt differently.

“‘Lo, Hop,” Victor replied. His voice was deeper. It was distinct, he thought. Only two years ago, his voice was high. Now it was held a very clear tenor, the greeting sort of echoing in his mind. His voice was still soft, he noticed. 

“Oh, where have you been all morning?” His mother had asked him. It was accusatory, but there was a playful tone. “While you were away, a good friend decided to pop by!” So he did. There was a beat.

“Uh, well—” Hop tried to start. 

“Ah, there’s…!” Victor attempted to talk as well. They both paused. Hop gripped on the doorknob, his grin slowly becoming more forced. Their family looked on with amused expressions, almost wanting to urge the two on. “Your grandfather was just telling me of a new coffee shop that opened in Wedgehurst.” His grandfather nodded very knowingly, as he had begun to suspect all grandfathers did. 

“Just opened how long ago?” His grandfather asked.

“It was a month or two ago, yeah?” His grandmother continued the conversation as Hop only thought to stand at the entrance of his own home while his friend of more than a few years sitting at the table in place of himself. 

“Hop, could we go?” Victor asked. Another pause. Not that he enjoyed littering the air with these beats of silence, but he found himself thinking much more than he used to. 

“Er… now?”

“Sure!” His voice displayed very clear excitement, but sweat poured down his temple. His mouth twitched. He was very obviously searching for a way out of the situation. No doubt, his family was bombarding him with an innumerable amount of personal questions, as they were very prone to doing. 

“Sure, sounds like a plan,” He adjusted his jacket, pulling it closer to his chest. Quickly Victor stood from the table. He noticed how his smile was so much more strained, he was uncomfortable.

“Oh, leaving already?” Hop’s mother said.

“I’ve been wantin’ to take him to the place for a bit now, anyway,” He hadn’t, but he was a much quicker liar than he used to be. Before he’d stammer over his every word trying to just get the fib out. He began to exit the house, knowing that Victor was just behind him. “We’ll be seeing you.” Victor gave a polite wave as Hop closed the door, leaving their family inside. After a pause, they both gave an exhausted sigh.

“Thanks, Hop,” Victor’s smile was less forced, it was easy-going. It was an honest relief, seeing him look like himself. 

“Mm,” He said, scratching the back of his neck. Could he think of nothing to say? He had known Victor for more than half of his life, yet words failed to leave his mouth. Words used to come to easy to Hop, conversations would flow like nothing. Now, he struggled to carry the conversation over the phone. “Let me take you to the new café.”

“Oh, you don’t have to, really!” He tried to seem polite, yet unbeknownst to Victor, this only further backed Hop into a corner. What was he going to do? Was he to say ‘Oh brill! Well, be seeing you!’. 

“It’s been a right long while since I last saw you, hasn’t it?” And the prospect of going to tea with Victor didn’t displease him all that much either. They’ve both gotten older, and as a result, they’ve grown apart. Or perhaps, it was Hop who set that distance there in the first place. “I wouldn’t mind showing you the place.” Surprising him, Victor looked excited. There was a bit of a spark in his eyes, something Hop hadn’t seen in person in quite a long time. 

“Right!” He said, gripping the straps of his bag. With one glance, he could tell that the thing was falling to bits. Parts of the wood began to chip, he could see the parts of the fabric peeling off on the sides of the wooden bag. He would never let that bag go, would he? There was nothing sentimental behind the thing, and yet he seemed to cling to the antique. “I suppose you could lead the way then?”

“Sure, it’s not too far,” The walk there was quiet. It was near silent other than the numerous greetings that Victor would get from people passing by. So, perhaps it wasn’t completely silent. Part of him wished for a silent walk. Victor would try to start a conversation but would be interrupted by well-meaning people giving their howdy-do's. When they finally reached the café, Hop caught a glance at the laboratory. He was supposed to meet Sonia at twelve today. 

“You coming in?” Victor said.

“...Yeah, sure!” He said after a moment, walking in after Victor. The café was packed with various people. With its new introduction into Wedgehurst, a lot of the townspeople spent most of their time at the contemporary establishment. People with laptops sat alone at some tables. At other tables, there were loud conversations with large groups of people, laughing about things Hop didn’t care to listen to.

“A bit small…” Victor mused as he looked around the place. Perhaps it was true for him, but the café was large enough to fit the entire town. He thought to mention it, the fact that his time of Wyndon was making him quite the city boy. It would be a joke, but something stopped him. And so he walked to the counter and ordered them both food. “Do you know—”

“Avocado toast without the red peppers with a glass of milk, yeah?” It wasn’t anything Hop would hope to order. Very far from it, yet he had known for a while that Victor’s tastes were quite peculiar. There was a pause.

“I’ll get us a table,”

“Sounds top,” Parts of him hadn’t changed. The small, insignificant parts that Hop would gush over when he was younger, but the parts Victor kept to himself. He would eat anything you gave to him but was secretly picky. He would begrudgingly stay in a conversation he hated, just to seem polite. When he was nervous, he’d unknowingly get louder. Those traits seemed to stay, but there were certain traits he parted with when he became champion. 

Nonetheless, he ordered the food and brought it to the table. Victor chose a booth near the window. Sun shone through the window, beaming onto the table. Victor trudged through his bag. He looked happy. It was a different kind of happy than the one Hop was used to. His smile was constant, and something different shone in his eyes. He had changed so much; Hop wasn’t there for any of it. As he sat, Victor quickly pushed his bag away.

“I got our—”

“How’s it—” Victor quickly set his head down on the table, his forehead making the table give a little clunk. Hop allowed himself a small chuckle, watching Victor struggle to talk. They were prone to interrupting each other. Hop placed the food on the table as Victor fidgeted with his hands. He used to do that often, play and make little shapes with his hands to avoid eye-contact. Yet, Victor saw no trouble looking at Hop directly, reminding him that his eye color shone a deep brown. “How are… your studies going?” 

“Oh they’re going,” He could only manage a nervous grin, his eyebrow slightly furrowed at the thought. The words he’d receive from Sonia for missing the day would be curt. He was used to it. There was a time in which he tried to take in all kinds of knowledge from Sonia, outside sources, anything. Everything seemed so mundane now. “Sonia’s as strict as ever, though that prolly isn’t anything you didn’t expect.”

“You won’t take up the mantle anytime soon, hm?” Victor asked. Hop managed to let out a doubtful chuckle.

“Maybe when she gets as old as that mother of hers— ah, don’t tell anyone I said that,” Victor laughs. It was louder than it used to be. It didn’t sound forced, but there was a small hint of doubt that he felt. It had been too long, hadn’t it? His laugh sounded completely different, he couldn’t differentiate what was real and fake. Despite the apprehension, there was still a bit of pride that surged through him at the tone. Out of habit, perhaps, that he felt that way whenever Victor allowed himself to laugh. 

“I suppose I’ll just have to wait a bit longer until I see you in the whole outfit,” Victor pushed the conversation farther. He would have to wait a long while, he thought. He hadn’t dared to say it out loud to dim the conversation. Victor, with a hum, stared out the window and gave a smile. His heart pulsed only a bit, following suit. The sun was at its peak as the townspeople walked from one edge of the window to the other, disappearing just as quickly as they had appeared. 

Suddenly, diverting his attention, Victor laughed even louder. It wasn’t a laugh he hadn’t heard from Victor before. His smile was wide, it was _there_. It wasn’t hidden behind a sleeve or stifled away before anyone could notice. It was there, and Hop could see it clearly. He tried to stifle his laughter, there were people from other tables who began to stare, but Victor’s laugh was nearly infectious. 

“What on earth are you laughing about?” Hop asked, a light chuckle escaping his lips. Victor tried to talk a bit more, though his fits prevented him from doing so clearly.

“Just— Just imagining you with the little lab coat, and the swirly glasses,” It was almost unbearable to listen to, his face only slightly heating up. Yet they both laughed, the image floating in both of their minds. He hadn’t thought about his future in such a way since his new dream was set. The idea was pleasing. Not exactly the persona that Victor had established, but to become a professor on his own. He had almost forgotten why he tried to become one, as if Victor hadn’t played an integral part in the decision. 

As Victor began to calm down, Hop found himself smiling too. He hadn’t realized how often he had forced his smile, how 

“Laugh more often, Victor,” He said, Hop’s smile still clear. His very real, his very genuine smile. “It suits you!” Victor’s smile was real too, he could tell. He gave a thoughtful little hum, turning to the window once again. Compliments like that would embarrass Victor, his cheeks flushing a wonderful shade of pink, but now it only widened his smile.

“Being a Pokémon Professor is nothing I expected for you, but I should have seen it coming!”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well you, ah,” He suddenly began to stammer. He stuttered, Hop noticed, much like he used to. “You were always knowledgeable about things like Pokémon I think. You’re smart, I suppose.” Victor took a sip of milk from a straw. Hop stared at the table, as he figured that looking anywhere else would be way less interesting. 

“Mmph,” Victor nearly sputtered his milk as an idea popped into his head. “Hold on.” He raised a finger. Hop peered over, watching Victor trudge through his bag a bit more. And proudly, over the table, he held a rock. They both sat there for a moment, watching the rock bask in the sunlight that fluttered through the café windows. 

“...Hm,” Hop hummed after a long pause, watching the rock for a moment longer. The stone was round, astoundingly smooth. There was a light blue tint to the rock, though it was only really noticeable in the light. And those were the only discernible features of the stone. It was a rock.

“It’s a lucky stone!” He said, leaning toward Hop. There was obvious excitement in his voice. “It’s supposed to be a geode. A market stall at Stow-on-Side sold them! Said that it would bring anyone who carried it good luck, so long as they didn’t break it!” In short, Victor was unknowingly swindled out of his money to buy a rock. Hop opened his mouth, almost tempted to explain what the problem was, but he closed it just as quickly. The excitement in his voice was almost rare years ago. To hear it just as easily made something in him melt.

“I thought you could use it!” He extended his arms, showing Hop the very uninteresting and very unimportant rock. 

“Me?” Hop asked, almost in disbelief, as if there was any other ‘you’ Victor could be referring to.

“Sure!” He nodded. “You’re always very busy. And you’re working hard too. I don’t know if you’d want something like this, but I really only bought it because I thought of you.” He chuckled. Hop hesitantly took the gift from his hands, their fingers touching only slightly as Victor dropped the gift in his hands. He almost wanted to cradle the thing, forgetting that he could find another just outside of the building in his backyard. 

“I could use the thing, let me tell you,” He said fairly loudly. He held a very normal, very characterless, commonplace rock in his hand, yet he gently held the item very close to his chest. Victor laughed, and in response, Hop couldn’t help but laugh too. 

“You’re always on about my laugh,” Victor said, only a bit quieter. It was barely noticeable, but his tenor made a low rumble that made his heart flutter. “But, y’know, I quite like your laugh as well.”   
  


I quite like your laugh as well. The phrase bounced around in his mind. He so wished it didn’t.

The night was dark and quiet, save for the occasional chirping of the bugs that sat outside in the bushes. Moonlight speckled into his room, shadows spotting parts of the floor. He hid under his sheets from the cool night air that seeped into the room. The whole house was asleep, save for him.

He liked his laugh. There was something in Victor’s voice that Hop couldn’t quite read then, yet nonetheless he still complimented his laugh. He remembers Victor’s laugh, the smile he brazenly showed him. Part of him wished to see it again, to be able to witness the smile Victor was no longer ashamed of. He remembers the stone Victor had gotten for him, and swindled or not, he bought it thinking of Hop. He remembers how the sun shone onto Victor’s face that day—how his hair turned into an exquisite caramel color that Hop wished to caress, to run his fingers through. 

"...No," He muttered, hiding deeper within the covers. He wouldn't do this. These insistent thoughts, ideas, and wishes that only made him yearn for something that wouldn’t come would have to stop. He hadn’t thought this way in years, why had they only resurfaced now? He had his chance. Victor was much happier now, without Hop in his life. He turned in his bed and saw the stone that sat on his dresser. There were little bits of hope that managed to swell through his body. Only small bits. 

I like your smile too. Victor said that once; what felt like a lifetime ago. When they were both young enough to dream of the adventure they’d have together, the story they’d share. Victor’s voice had gotten so deep. Only a few years ago did his voice sound high-pitched, but the rumble that his clear tenor echoed through his mind. It was low, but still held the soft tone that made Hop give a love-filled smile. His heart would only quicken at the thought. 

He hummed. I quite like your laugh as well. Hop should have replied with “I love yours more”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who is posting this chapter at 3 in the morning! This will be really, very, EXTREMELY slow to post as... midterms are soon. I was only able to do this in my free time so I hope you enjoyed!


	2. your smile too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hop is told to make some new friends but is too enraptured with the old rustic house sitting on the top of the hill.

The hardest Hop had ever cried was when his brother had left.

He sobbed into his mother’s chest unceasingly, his hands clutching her blouse. She very patiently held him close, ignoring the tears that dotted her clothing. He remembers the aftermath very clearly, his voice hoarse, his eyes burning for what felt like hours when it only happened to be a couple of minutes.

“Why did he have to leave _now_?” His voice was so small and frail, the strain clear in his pitiful tone. It was a question he’d repeat for the next few months as Leon would enjoy his time venturing the country without him. “Why couldn’t I have gone with him?” Hop would refuse to separate from his brother for years, clinging to Leon’s arm almost as if he were a precious antique, afraid to lose him. But only now would he have to suffer the withdrawal of being alone, actually alone, for the first time.

“You’re much too young, sweetheart,” She would stroke his hair as they sat on the worn couch. The television sputtered something insignificant, possibly about the very challenge his own brother was partaking in. The noises that came from the telly were merely background noise to him, his hiccups slowly softening.

He didn’t like the idea of moving to such a remote place. To live in a “cozy” home, practically away from civilization (his family believed him to be exaggerating, but it was true!) But his mother simply insisted that they lived in Postwick. So Leon could start his challenge properly—at Route One. Leon adored the idea. He, most likely, thought that the concept was romantic. He would only have to be patient, he was told, until he could take part in the very challenge his brother was aiming to complete. In just a few years, he could join his brother in the challenge as well. But Leon would be Champion by then. Perhaps not everyone believed it, but Hop knew. He would become Champion. Leon told him so himself. He promised. And so he would do the challenge alone. 

Without Leon, the house was abnormally quiet. There were scattered conversations within the household, of small little things that Hop never bothered to pay attention to before. Though now, he couldn’t help but listen to the discussions that would take place. It wasn’t particularly anything he was interested in, tax-rates and politics or whatever adults seemed to talk about. 

Throughout the house, he would carry the Pokéball. His Pokéball, he was very proud to add. The ball was small, though with his small hands it just barely fit the base of his palm. Leon had caught it for him. A Wooloo. 

“Think of it as a farewell gift, alright?” Leon had bent down to his knee to talk to Hop, placing the Pokéball very gently in his hand. At that moment, he felt a great weight of responsibility pushed down on his shoulders. He felt like a real trainer. Like Leon. “Hold that one for me, okay? And you’ll meet me one day in the championships. With that Pokémon.” Hop nodded vigorously, tears dotting his eyes. But he wouldn’t cry. Not in front of his brother. 

Every day, his mother would hear Hop’s pleading voice ask to release the Pokémon inside the house, but every time he would be met with a stern no. He’d try time and time again, though he was never surprised at the answer he’d always receive. 

“If you’ve got the mind to release that Wooloo in our house, you can certainly do it outside!” She said one day. “Make some friends, Hop. You’ll get lonely if it's just you and that Pokémon every day.”

“Not true!” His cheeks puffed, crossing his arms. It was very much what a child would do during a tantrum, though Hop thoroughly believed that he was correct. “Leon told me to take care of Wooloo until he gets back! I’ll be fine 'til then!”

“Hop,” His mother talked to him in that very condescending tone, much like mothers were inclined to do. The warning tone that played in her voice made Hop freeze a bit. “It’ll be good for you, wouldn’t it? If Leon becomes Champion, who’s going to be your rival?”

“Leon, of course!” He said in a matter of fact way, almost offended at his mother’s remark. “Who else would it be?”

“Leon has friends to travel with this year,” It was Sonia she was talking about. They had been good friends for quite a while, it was obvious that they’d travel together. There would be various other rivals he would meet on his journey as well, he was almost sure of it. As strong as he was, there’d certainly be trainers swarming to battle him. But Hop didn’t have anyone like that. Hop stood there, fiddling with the Pokéball he held so often. “Just try. Only for today, okay?” 

And so, very suddenly, he was outside. He stood just in front of his front door, just behind him stood the rest of his neighborhood. Nervously, he clutched his Pokéball that held his Wooloo to his chest. He wanted to release his friend then and there, though something stopped him. There were small groups of challengers that gathered at Route One, perhaps training their Pokémon to prepare for the first gym. They came in groups of two or three, wandering the grassy terrain cautiously. Leon was not among them. He walked outside of the fence that surrounded his house. Giving a little huff through his nose, Hop stared up at the hill.

Just like when he first arrived in Postwick, the home that stood on top of the hill loomed down on Hop. There was little movement seen by the house, he noticed. There were often small herds of Wooloo that hung around the house, fenced in near the front. Some would loiter near the strange small gates that always stay closed. But no one ever left the house, or at least, Hop had never caught anyone. A small part of him had begun to suspect that the place was haunted, though the house looked much too cute for something like that. The home had a rustic sort of feel, homely, though the sun that gleamed onto the back of the house made it shadow his own. It was almost intimidating, how the house seemed to loom so tauntingly in the distance. 

Laughter sounded from the edge of Route One. A group training their Pokémon crowded around one trainer. He held up his starter, a Zigzagoon, away from his face at arm's length as it attempted to lick him. Hop knew that if it had, the boy would most likely be paralyzed. It was hardly anything to joke about, yet the group of trainers didn’t look at all phased. It wasn’t something Hop was good at; talking to people. He’d say something wrong and suddenly the conversation was at a standstill. People found him too energetic, too loud, though he never tried to be. The kids were all much older than him, Leon’s age. No one in Postwick appeared to be his own age. 

He did make a friend though, contrary to his mother’s belief. He gripped his Pokéball a little tighter. For what reason would he absolutely need to make another friend? Hop himself saw little to no point, after all Leon would be waiting for him after he becomes Champion. He wouldn’t do the challenge alone. He would have his Pokémon. He was almost tempted to walk back inside, to say “Sorry, mum, the town is as bland as ever,”. But something sounded on top of the hill.

He felt a chill run down his spine as his eyes drifted to the noise. On top of the hill, the hill that saw little activity save for the Wooloo that cried every so often, the door slowly creaked open. The noise was grating, it had felt like something out of a horror movie. He almost dared himself to believe it was actually a ghost, though he felt his heartrate rush when he couldn’t see a single figure walk out of the doorway. Curiosity seemed to fuel him more than his fear, though he tried to stop himself as he inched closer to the house.

And then he saw a bag. Only a bag, really. It was larger than Hop was, or at least it seemed so from that far away. A cute little Pokémon was illustrated on its large yellow front. He could wager that it was some sort of on-brand Pokémon food, the cute Pidove cooing reticently on the sack. He could barely see the two small arms that clutched the thing, though it took only then to realize that there was someone behind that large bag.

“Mmph,” Someone grunted from behind the bag. The voice was small, young. It was interesting to see how the child walked. They waddled, grunting every so often as they made their way towards the little fountain that sat at the edge of their house. Hop didn’t think to help, though it wasn’t anything out of malice. Curiosity placed him curtly at the bottom of the hill, watching the bag move from one side of the house to the other. He never noticed the fact until now, but the fountain was refilled daily with water and food. It was only now that he had caught the person in the act.

The bag was dropped near the fountain. Hop was shocked to see a boy his age, which was more of a surprise to him than the fact that he truly let himself believe there to be a ghost living in the house in the first place. Almond colored hair was hidden behind a gray knit cap (much too big for him, Hop thought, the thing seemed to constantly slide down to his eyes). He had rosy cheeks, despite the cool fall weather. There was a moment of silence as the boy attempted to regain his breath and as Hop only stood there, watching as if the boy were the star of an enrapturing nature documentary. 

The boy began to whistle. It startled Hop for some reason, though he couldn’t think of a reason why he would be on edge. The tune wasn’t anything he had recognized. In fact, he could say it hardly sounded like music at all. He cupped his hands in a strange sort of way, the noise that followed sounded like a call. The call of a Rookiedee sounded. Almost in response. It seemed like something out of a fairytale, he thought, a princess singing to the Pokémon that surrounded her. Though the boy was far from a princess. Perhaps not too far, actually, he seemed very ethereal in a sense Hop couldn’t quite place. The boy didn’t look displaced by the call at all. In fact, it seemed like a conversation as he whistled back. Every so often, the boy would pour a bit of the food into the fountain. He whistled again, and again the Rookiedee called. Very suddenly, the Pokémon landed at the fountain.

Very slowly, a couple more flying types would land at the fountain, eating the seed that the boy gave to them. It was only now that Hop thought to speak, seeing the boy attempt to grab the bag once again to take into his house. 

“Hey!” Hop exclaimed, raising an arm into the air. The boy jumped, nearly out of his own skin, as he finally saw Hop standing at the bottom of the hill. The birds flew away at his outburst, also startled by Hop. He didn’t quite mean to seem threatening, though the boy’s face made him think that perhaps he was a bit too brash. “D’you need any help there?” The boy quickly shook his head before scurrying back into his own house. “W-Wait…!” But there wasn’t much he could do before the door slammed, rendering the house once again silent and still, and Hop once again alone at the bottom of the hill.

And he stood there for a moment, in slight confusion. There was a very long pause as he still stared at the house, the house that was not empty, waiting for something to happen. Flying Pokémon slowly returned to the fountain, chirping every so often. But the boy didn’t exit the house again that day. 

He’d try again the next day, of course. At around the same time, the boy was in the midst of Wooloo that were fenced in near the house. He was knee-deep in a sea of cotton, the Wooloo would cry as they watched him hold a rack of hay above his head. There was a small smile that played on the boy’s lips as he guided himself through the massive amount of Pokémon. Hop quickly clutched his heart, a sort of stabbing sensation at his chest, though he was probably only nervous to talk to his neighbor. As he put the rack down, the Wooloo flooded to the food, despite the grass that surrounds each of them. 

When he exited the pen, he noticed Hop standing there. He was closer to the house that day, standing on the stairs that led him to the top of the hill. 

“Hey there!” Hop tried to say, though the boy immediately looked the other way, walking closer to the entrance of his own home. “Hey now, wait!” He called, but the boy didn’t stop. Hop tried to walk up the hill, but he was already at his front door. “Can I at least get your name?” The boy paused as he opened the door, looking back at Hop for a moment. There was a large flush that spread upon the boy’s face, his mouth quivering nervously as they stared at each other. 

“Victor!” He yelled. His voice was a lot louder than he had expected, though it seemed to have startled the both of them. He slammed the door, but Hop was able to realize that it wasn’t out of anger.

Victor. It was a nice name, he thought. He had only wished to introduce himself as well. 

The next day, he attempted to introduce himself. His neighbor went to check the mail, though he gave a huff when all it held were prescriptions to magazines that didn’t interest him. Once Victor had noticed him, however, he had retreated back inside before he could make an attempt to say anything. The day after, he caught Victor playing with some of the Wooloo. He leaned on the fence, holding some sort of toy and waving it while the Pokémon attempted to bite at the thing. As he approached, Victor quickly stuffed the toy into his pocket and retreated into the house. 

Each day, Hop had greeted the boy with a smile, only for him to run. Of course, he wasn’t trying to be intimidating or scary. Part of him thought to simply give up, to leave the poor boy alone. He had left the house a lot more often than he used to now, giving his mother a quick goodbye as he thought to try and befriend his cute neighbor that scurried away so often. 

But one day he had stopped. He looked outward, instead of toward the small little house on top of the hill, toward Route One. His brother was headed toward the first gym right now. He hadn’t thought about it in days, but very soon he would see his brother on the telly, battling the grass-type leader.

There was a pause as he stood outside, watching the grass sway as the autumn wind pushed it from side to side. In his hand, like every other day, he held his Pokéball. And after a moment, he clicked the button on its front. Very quickly, Wooloo emerged from the ball. He shook and stretched, eager to be out of his Pokéball. 

“Hey, mate,” Hop crouched down, scratching the back of his ears. The Wooloo stepped closer, a very clear smile sat on his face. His Wooloo was different. Different than the rest of the Wooloo that littered Postwick. On his nose, a splotch of black was seen, almost as if someone had spilled a bit of black paint onto the small thing. His horns were much smaller, almost invisible. They were hidden within his cotton exterior. “At least you’ll talk to me.” He baa’d in response. He used the word ‘talk’ in a very loose sense. 

Part of him was excited to see Leon’s fight. It would be his first real one, his first professional one. He, at first, was incredibly confident in his brother’s ability. He was strong, the strongest Hop had ever seen. But as time passed, worry began to wear away at his mind. He would be fine, he had to assure himself. Part of him started to believe that he was more anxious about the battle than Leon would have been. 

Footsteps sounded from the outside of his house. The Wooloo turned before he did, giving a polite little baa at the person who stood behind him. Victor stood just outside the gates of his own house, standing meekly as he stared at his shoes. There was an unsure pause, the silence making Hop tense. 

“...’Lo there,” Is all the boy could think to say as he tugged at the hem of his own jacket. His voice sounded strange, his accent was noticeably different than Hop’s. It also sounded unsure. Hop noticed Victor’s eyes flickering from Hop’s Pokémon to his own house very frequently.

“Hop,”

“Huh?” Victor stared at Hop now, his eyes nearly piercing into Hop’s.

“That’s my name,” His Wooloo sat, gleefully and cluelessly watching the conversation take place. “You had run away so often that I never got to tell you!”

“Sorry,” Again, Victor stared at his shoes, avoiding Hop’s glare. It wasn’t much of a glare though, despite what Victor may have thought at the time. And there was another silence.

“Did you—” Hop said.

“I wanted—” Victor said. Victor began to flush profusely, grabbing the hem of his jacket a bit tighter. “To… see your Pokémon” Hop looked at Wooloo, and then looked back. Wooloo was blissfully unaware of the request, happily staring at the boy who still stood outside of his home.

“It’s only my Wooloo,” Hop let himself give an unsure smile.

“Oh, I know!” Victor peeked, finally letting go of his jacket. “But, um, I’d still like to meet yours… If you don’t mind.” As Hop stared, he saw beads of sweat dot his neighbor’s forehead. Slowly, Hop stood up from his crouch, stepping away from his Pokémon. Wooloo looked at Hop expectantly.

“It’s alright,” Hop nodded, and quickly the Pokémon bounded towards Victor. It nearly tackled the poor boy, Hop sort of panicked as Wooloo charged, but Victor gave a light little chuckle. Something stabbed at his heart again. Victor pet the Wooloo just below the chin, his Pokémon giving a little happy baa. “You have a lot of Wooloo don’t you?”

“I do,” His smile was still there. Hop seemed to hold his breath, hoping that it would stay there for just a bit longer. “Every Pokémon is different though.” That was true. As Victor pet Hop’s Pokémon, Hop stood there. And just like his Wooloo, Hop bounded toward Victor. He was startled, of course, but Hop sat near the both of them, crossing his legs and putting a hand on his Pokémon’s back. “...Hop is your name?”

“Mhm,” He nodded. Hop’s smile was evident as he rested his head in his hand. 

“Your real name?” Victor asked once again. 

“...Yeah?” Hop’s smile dissolved, replaced with a look of confusion. His name was strange to other people, perhaps. He quite liked his name, though. It clearly rolled off of his tongue, it would be a perfect name for when he became a Pokémon trainer. Some days, however, he wondered if he should have chosen a better name. Something more traditional. Victor paused. Hop only thought to stare.

“It… It makes sense,” Victor said after a moment, a blush that Hop began to get used to, spread once again throughout his face.

“It… makes sense?” The best thing about a brother, Hop had thought, is that he didn’t have to introduce himself. There was no need for small talk as you and your brother understood each other without words. But in talking to Victor, he was especially careful. He didn’t know what was right to say, or when to say anything. It was an oddity, he believed, but it wasn’t anything he completely hated.

“You—Well, I…” Victor’s hand drifted from the Wooloo. His Wooloo made a point to lay his head on Victor’s lap as compensation. “You’re very energetic. I think. Well yes, you are. You, I guess, are quite the… hopper.” He stammered through his words, almost as if he was unsure of saying them. Hop laughed very suddenly at that claim, nearly snorting. It wasn’t bad to talk to people like Victor, he thought. Victor slowly let himself smile, and after a bit chuckled as well as he watched Hop give his loud laughter. 

“I like that! I really do!” Hop said, pointing at Victor. He nervously scratched the back of his neck, but his smile was there. It was there after days of fruitlessly chasing it. “I really like your smile! You should stop hiding it so often!” Almost as if on instinct, Victor looked away. He scratched his own cheek, his smile wavering. He seemed to try to stifle it, but the compliment only made him smile a bit more.

“I, um…” He stared at the Wooloo that sat in his lap. “I like your smile too.” Something stabbed at his chest. It wasn’t very noticeable at first, really, but now it made his heart pound in a way he hadn’t experienced before. Quickly, he let his hand go to his chest, but nonetheless he gave a smile as to thank Victor. 

I like your smile too. It was strange how it made him felt. He watched Victor pet his Pokémon, staring at his lap. He couldn’t understand why his heart seemed to rattle so often around Victor. How his face nearly flush in the same way that Victor was inclined to doing. But he was making progress with him. Real progress. And, he thinks, finding such a friend is a rarity. 

“Is your friend coming over today?” His mother would ask. The question was constant, he’d hear it almost every day. It was almost as if she was impressed with Hop’s success in making a new friend. Stifling a groan, he would lament to tell her that no, his friend would not be coming over that day. Very often afterward, Hop would skip out of the house to meet Victor who patiently waits just outside of his house. 

Victor had visited Hop’s house only once. His mother was surprised to see the boy at their home, standing at the door with him. He only thought to stare at the ground as Hop gave a confident huff through his nose.

“Sorry,” Victor shrunk under his mother’s gaze before she could even say anything.

“Mate, I told you it’s okay,” He nudged Victor in his side with his elbow. “My friend Victor wanted to see the fight today. S’that alright?” ‘My friend’ he says. He felt something bubble in his chest as the words managed to tumble out of his mouth. His mother looked at Victor for a moment, though Victor hadn’t the courage to look back.

“Of course!” She gave a genuine smile as she stepped to the side, allowing both of them to step inside. “It’s very nice to meet you, Victor.”

“Likewise,” He managed to mumble, giving an embarrassed look to the door. Hop was very tempted to give him a tour of the place, as if he were a prideful host at a dinner party, though even he knew that there wasn’t much to see. 

“Hop!” His mother called as she closed the door. “Get the bread from the oven please.”

“Okay!” He answered as he made way for the kitchen. Victor saw the incentive to follow him but was cornered by his grandparents. They asked him all sorts of questions, like his hobbies, aspirations, and whatnot. He would give one-word answers, politely nodding as his grandparents droned on about things he knew was impossible for Victor to care about. Poor Victor, Hop thought as he reached for the oven mitts that sat on the side of the counter. Too polite for his own good. Perhaps he should have hesitated when Victor asked to come over, though the excitement displayed in Victor’s voice when he had asked to watch the match together hardly made Hop think of another answer. He hadn’t thought Victor to be the battling type at all. His mention of Leon’s battle was what got Victor to talk to him so genuinely. 

“Hurry, Hop, the match is starting!” His grandfather called from the couch as he pulled the banana bread from the oven. Without thinking, he set it down on the table and rushed to the couch. He jumped over the back of the couch, landing right next to Victor who had jolted at the sudden bounce on the cushions. He most definitely was quite the hopper. “Did you get the bread?”

“It’s out of the oven!” His grandfather seemed to want to say more, but abrupt shouting thundered from the telly. 

Out walked Leon. The crowd was ballistic, cheering on both of the opponents that walked onto the battlefield. The number one was displayed on the back of his outfit. The wind lightly brushed past his shirt, fluttering it a bit. 

“Oh, just look at him…!” His mother put a hand to her chest, watching her son walk amidst the large crowd of people shouting his name. Hop’s heart rattled in his ears. Beads of sweat dripped from his temple as he grasped his trousers. Victor spared a glance in Hop’s direction with a small frown though his attention was diverted as he heard Leon give a confident chuckle.

Leon stared at the opposing trainer with such intensity, such confidence, that it almost scared Hop. Despite the smile that he flaunted, he was very serious. And looking at Leon made him realize that Hop was his total opposite. He wasn’t as confident as his brother, not nearly as talented or quick-witted. He gave a little look to the family that sat to his left. They all celebrated Leon’s appearance on the television, eagerly watching as he got ready to send out his first Pokémon. Would they do this when Hop was on the telly? Would they eagerly surround the screen, watching as he traversed each gym one by one? 

Victor to his right was silent, watching the screen with a straight face. His face wasn’t placed with a look of anxiety or embarrassment, emotions that Hop was used to seeing, it was unreadable. Hop thought he would be excited for this day, but something made him sink into the couch as he watched Leon send his Charmeleon out onto the battlefield. Hop didn’t understand why he was so worried, with a fire type Pokémon against a grass type gym, he would be done in less than a moment. 

The Gym Leader sent out an Eldegoss. Hop sank further into the couch. Most definitely, it would take less than a moment. The opposing leader had three Pokémon, and although anyone would think that he was at the high ground, the type advantage Leon had gained from a single Charmeleon was far greater. In only two shots, the Eldegoss was gone with Leon’s Charmeleon taking very little damage. His family cheered, but for some reason, he forgot to.

He would be doing this too, wouldn’t he? Was his anxiety really stemmed from worry for his brother…? Unease pierced at his mind as he watched the Gym Leader cast out a Whimsicott. Leon gave a happy huff through his nose, his eyebrows furrowing in poise. There was no malice set between either of the trainers on the battlefield. Each of them was having their own form of fun. Would it be the same for Hop? The idea of the challenge so allured him at first, but there were so many questions that began to litter his mind. He hadn’t noticed that the Whimsicott was cast off of the battlefield in defeat. 

The Gym Leader gave a confident little smirk as a Lombre was put onto the field. Leon must have been too confident, Hop thought. The Gym Leader’s Pokémon was of a higher level than Leon’s, though he felt his mouth twitch as he saw Charmeleon still on the field. One hit from a water type move could demolish him.

“What is he doing…?” Hop hadn’t meant to sound aggravated, though it was very clear that Leon’s Pokémon would get knocked out in one shot. Lombre was part water type as well, it was a smart move to include a dual-type like that. Many overconfident trainers would blast through the gym with only a fire type, unsuspecting of a water type waiting for them. Leon wasn’t a complete fool. He watched as a tiny bead of sweat slipped down Leon’s temple, though his smile remained.

“...I know what he’s going to do,” Victor said quietly. It was much too quiet for his family to hear, though Hop managed to steal a quick glance at Victor beside him. Victor bit his lip, staring at the screen with an intensity that he had never seen on him before. 

“Hydro Pump!” The leader called, an easy arm outstretched.

“Charmeleon, Acrobatics!” Leon huffed. Acrobatics was a flying type move. Very easily, Leon’s Pokémon jumped out of the way, startling both the Lombre and the Gym Leader. Dodging each blast of water that came his way, The Charmeleon flexed his claws as he managed to scratch the Lombre at its backside. Each slice after the other, the Lombre slowly stopped trying to blast the opposing Pokémon with water. And after a moment, Charmeleon stopped, standing just in front of the Lombre. Very slowly, it fell, dirt scattering from the thud that it made.

Hop was startled. They all sat there for a moment, processing what was happening on the screen. Leon noticed the camera that pointed in his direction and gave it a daring smile. He won. His mother gave excited laughter as his grandparents cheered at the boy on the screen as if he would reply. Hop smiled. He really did it, didn’t he? He let his shoulders loosen, placing a quick hand on his own arm. There was no real reason to be worried in the first place. He beat a Gym Leader with one Pokémon. Hop knew how powerful Leon was, he had been telling people for years. Despite the disadvantage, Victor seemed to realize how Leon’s victory would come just a beat before it happened.

To his side, Victor stared at the screen. There was no smile on his face, but something different shone in his eyes. He gripped his shirt, watching Leon and the Gym Leader shake hands. It was awe, Hop could practically see something click in Victor, how Leon’s fight changed him. And as he stared at Victor for a little longer, he felt his mother nudge his shoulder.

“You never did get the bread, did you?”

“It’s out of the oven!” 

“I want to do that,” Victor said as Hop walked him home. The sun had finally set, the darkness of night only just now setting in. Victor stared onward, with that same unreadable expression on his face. Hop looked at Victor for a moment before continuing forward.

“What do you mean?” He asked though something in him knew exactly what he meant. Exactly how he felt.

“I want to be out there, fighting like that,” He said. It was far too brash for it to come from Victor, though he watched the words fall so confidently from his mouth. Hop gave a laugh, making Victor’s typical panicked expression return. “Wh-Was that too much? Sorry—I’m sorry!”

“No, it's just a coincidence is all,” He ignored Victor’s nervous stammers, much too used to them by now. Hop walked up the stairs, Victor leading the way. “I want to do that too.” He stood just in front of the door, yet Victor paused. He stared at the doorknob for much longer than a moment, the moon completely out now. It bounced atop his hair, his usual brown color fading into a slight white from the moonlight. Victor turned to look at Hop. He stood at its doorstep as Hop lingered just below him. The incline made Victor’s shadow cover Hop completely.

“Will you do it with me?” He asked. It sounded so much less like a question. It sounded more so like a proposal, he thought, that strange hopeful and starstruck look dancing in his eyes once again. They looked at each other for more than a moment. Hop stared, almost entranced at the gaze Victor gave him. For once, he didn’t waver. He just stood there and waited expectantly. Hop didn’t understand why he felt this stabbing feeling in his chest so often around Victor, it almost hurt at times, but something in him didn’t want it to stop. He let a slow smile play at his lips. The smile wasn’t nearly as energetic, but it was genuine. 

“Yeah,” He said. “We’ll do it together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Believe it or not, I very much like Pokémon! If you want to talk more about it or this fic, talk to me on my Tumblr!  
> https://peepuss.tumblr.com/


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